


Transpontine

by seraphichan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Bond being a shit go figure, M is just tired lol, M/M, Q asking himself why he puts up with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9828755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphichan/pseuds/seraphichan
Summary: “Am I interrupting something?”They split apart and turned towards the apartment door where M had just entered sporting a deep frown and a stern glare.





	

“Where is he, Q?” M asked tersely when Q answered the phone.

“I'm not sure. The tracker is offline, ma'am, I--”

“Well, I suggest you get it back on. And quickly.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Q held in the sigh. This was not the first time that week the tracker had been offline - something that might have gotten Q in trouble if it weren't for whom the tracker was attached to. Bond had apparently figured out how to deactivate it and had done so periodically throughout his mission. It was unsafe and negligent, not to mention it pissed Q off to no end.

“Q.”

“One moment, ma'am,” he said as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

He opened the program on his computer and went through the process of reactivating it manually, as he had done each time previously.

“Well, he appears to be on Earth,” Q said as the program came back online.

M did not respond and Q cleared his throat.

“England, specifically,” he said as the map zoomed in. “London, south of the Thames, along Oval Pl--”

Q clamped his mouth closed and pursed his lips.

“Q? What is it?”

“Sorry, ma'am,” he said, “I have to go to the loo.”

“The loo? Can’t that wai--”

He quickly pressed the button on the phone and ended the call. He was certain to catch bloody hell for that later, but not before he unleashed some of his own. After grabbing his jacket, he left the building and caught the afternoon bus, rode it to the juncture of Dorset and Meadow. Then he walked the few blocks to his apartment, stomped up the stairs to the door, and opened it to be greeted by Bond standing in his kitchen and making a sandwich.

“Welcome home, love. Would you like me to make you one?”

“What I would _like_ is for you to stop turning off your tracker, and to report to M as soon as you get back from a mission.”

“I was on my way. Just needed a bite first.”

“In that case, I hope you’re ready to get your ass chewed out--”

“Oh? Are you offering?” Bond asked with a smirk.

It took Q a few moments to realize what Bond was getting at, but when he did he felt his face flush and he frowned. “I’m not one to reward bad behavior.”

“And if I was good?”

“That would be cause for celebration indeed.”

Bond hummed. “Then perhaps I should start with this.”

He came over and grabbed Q’s chin, tilted his head back and pressed their mouths together, ran his tongue over Q’s lips--

“Am I interrupting something?”

They split apart and turned towards the apartment door where M had just entered sporting a deep frown and a stern glare.

Shit.

“I’m glad to see you’ve made it back to London, 007, but I think you’re priorities are a little off the mark. We have things to discuss.”

“In my defense he wasn’t _supposed_ to fall off the roof.”

M ignored him and looked at Q. “You and I need to talk as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I have a car waiting outside. Let’s shove off.” She turned pointedly and walked out of Q’s apartment.

“I think that went well,” Bond said.

Q elbowed him in the side.


End file.
